It’s a Small World

We should have seen it coming when the day started with a motorcycle wreck right next to us. A truck was quick sneaking through the traffic and the biker never saw him. He flew and we all groaned with horror. It was a sobering start.

Destination: Ein Gedi, the beautiful oasis in the Negev where David and his men hid out. It’s a piece of paradise in a harsh landscape with tall trees, towering grasses, waterfalls and moss. Truly epic. As you climb up the canyon you have phenomenal views out over the Dead Sea to the mountains of Jordan. Coneys leap around on rocks and the steep hillsides are riddled with caves that call your name. The trail occasionally dips into the stream and you can wade in the lukewarm water, scramble over falls and dodge the crabs lurking among the rocks. Little springs trickle into the main stream and and mist from the waterfalls drips off the ferns. Birds call and circle in the sky so blue you wonder if it’s actually real. You shiver in the shade and bake in the sun, never knowing if your sweater should be on or off.

We were still strangers that day…but the fun was definitely beginning. Some of the group loved to hike and seemed to never have a moment of breathlessness, while the rest of us were starting to notice that maybe we should have exercised a little more prior to the trip. Good intentions and all that. And in the middle of us was the girl who made the whole trip happen. Kari, the one who stepped out and got the group around. Also the one with incredible pluck, who, in spite of a disease that makes balance difficult, was totally enthused to embrace the whole adventure.

The path led up a mountain, over a squirrelly climb and ended up at David’s cave, high above the waterfall we had visited earlier. It was a bit knee knocking at times, but totally worth it. We were almost back when it happened. There was a fairly steep drop off next to the trail, Kari’s foot slipped and we weren’t there to catch her. I had just told her that we could do this and if she fell, I was going too. Talk about loyal friendship! Not.

That moment of horror is forever frozen in my mind. Hearing a shout, seeing Heath peering over the edge and noticing Kari was gone.

Everyone but me flew into action. Thank God a small bush had stopped her fall, but her head had banged on a rock and more blood than you can imagine was pouring out. Heath and Karen scrambled down to her, Karen whipping out a sanitary napkin to slap on her cut. Dalen went next, asking her if she was all right and in general taking control. Andrew, Steph and Marshall were right in with the action and by that time I had unfrozen enough to pull out the first aid kit I had packed. Kari was otherwise ok and wide awake, but very precariously perched. Her glasses were caught on the same bush and Steph crept down to retrieve them. She actually retrieved two pair. Maybe someone else had fallen there too?

It was at this moment I realized what a phenomenal group of people we were with. Everyone was calm, Kari was so brave I wept over it later, and everyone pitched in. Heath did amazing until he suddenly turned pea green and started sweating, so Andrew made him sit on the trail while he took his place on the slope. Her head was wrapped thoroughly in gauze and tensor bandages, Karen cleaned her up with a multitude of wet wipes, the rest picked up all the bloody trash and Kari, bless her heart, stood up and walked out of there like there was nothing wrong. She insisted she felt fine, clearly she is the strongest woman I know.

The staff at the gate told us that the closest Clinic was 5 miles away at a Kibbutz, so we all hopped in the van and headed over there. By this time we were well and truly bonded. Steph, Marshall and I accompanied her in and they gave her a cursory glance and told her to go to Jerusalem Emergency care. They were very kind, but thought she needed to be watched since it was a head wound. That was fine with us, so we headed off to Shaare Zedek Medical Center, an hour and a half drive, armed with instructions and papers from the clinic to ease our way.

Shaare Zedek is huge and quite foreign. It was also incredibly busy. I have always heard that Israel has great healthcare, so I wasn’t too worried, but it wasn’t what we were used to. The halls of the E were almost completely blocked with stretchers and beds with patients on them in various states of pain and undress. Most had attending family members. There was clearly no monitoring of who came in or out. We could all go back and forth at will, dodging the other sick folk, squishing around the ambulance guys bringing in more patients and waltz into Kari’s cubicle without a by your leave. She got a nice bed in a slightly separated area, but close enough to the action that we always had plenty to watch. There was a courtyard at the H where the other kids hung out and some snack shops where you could buy a pick me up. The doctors and nurses were in no rush and we settled in to spend the remainder of the day. Kari was upbeat the whole time, and still stuck to the storyline that she felt fine. Steph and I weren’t quite as brave. WE didn’t feel so fine. Occasionally someone would poke their head in and do something, like give a tetanus shot, check her motor skills, or unwrap the wound and numb it.

When we all knew Kari would be ok and it was just a matter of waiting, the guys and Karen headed out to explore Jerusalem via public transportation. The rest of us hung out and eventually got transferred upstairs to Plastic Surgery where a handsome doctor put 20 stitches into Kari’s head. By this time we were all feeling less traumatized, so we were happily chattering away, only to be thoroughly shushed by a passing doctor. It was mildly annoying. The surgeon didn’t care, why should she?

And then at last, after one or two more hours of waiting, they set us free. We were armed with copious amounts of antibiotics, creams, and papers. The clerk decided not to charge for the stitches for whatever reason, so the whole thing was only about $500.

We all got home about the same time. Tired, but so relieved that everything was ok. The explorers regaled us with tales of taking busses here and there and brought home some phenomenal smoked olives. That’s coming from someone who isn’t really even an olive fan.

From that time on we vowed a vow that we were in this together. We were no longer going to be individuals, but a team. Of course, if I had known that also meant sharing water bottles and bites of food I may not have agreed quite so readily… no I’m kidding. It DID mean that, but if that’s what it takes to be part of a team, I’m in, says the former germaphobe.